Well You Are A Piece Of Work

You Would Think After All The Hours I’d Spent With Gale– Watching Him Talk And Laugh And Frown– That I Would Know All There Was To Know About His Lips. But I Hadn’t Imagined How Warm They Would Feel Pressed Against My Own. Or How Those Hands [...] Could Entrap Me… I Vaguely Remember My Fingers, Curled Tightly Closed, Resting On His Chest.

Since My Father Died And I Stopped Trusting My Mother, No One Else's Arms Have Made Me Feel This Safe.

So I Only Say, "so What Should We Do With Our Last Few Days?" "i Just Want To Spend Every Possible Minute Of The Rest Of My Life With You," Peeta Replies.

He Puts The Chain With The Locket Around My Neck, Then Rests His Hand Over The Spot Where Our Baby Would Be. “you’re Going To Make A Great Mother, You Know,” He Says. He Kisses Me One Last Time And Goes Back To Finnick.

She’s Really Gone, Then. The Little Girl With The Back Of Her Shirt Sticking Out Like A Duck Tail, The One Who Needed Help Reaching The Dishes, And Who Begged To See The Frosted Cakes In The Bakery Window. Time And Tragedy Have Forced Her To Grow Too Quickly, At Least For My Taste, Into A Young Woman Who Stitches Bleeding Wounds And Knows Our Mother Can Hear Only So Much.